


boyfriend

by ab82



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Jughead, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9838442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab82/pseuds/ab82
Summary: jughead jones has a label in this town -- "freak". betty cooper's got one, too -- "nice girl". one is seemingly more innocuous than the other, but they both carry their own kind of weight. it's because betty has a label, too, that jughead can't turn her down in her time of need.it's only when the word "boyfriend" becomes involved that he realizes he might be in over his head.(aka the one where betty and jughead fake date to make her mom shut up, and jughead becomes excruciatingly aware of just how "normal" he needs to be, and how "normal" he doesn't feel at all.)**spoiler warning: might not want to read if you haven't seen the leaks from episode 8





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello there! I'm honored to be writing for the Riverdale fandom again -- you guys are really a lovely bunch, and I was so happy to see the support that "Home" got. 
> 
> Seems I can't stay away from these characters for long. This story is based on (SPOILER!!!) the leaks from episode 8, where we see Betty and Jughead kissing and acting like a couple at Polly's baby shower, as well as Veronica calling Jughead Betty's boyfriend in the student lounge at school. This was my take on the background of those leaks. (Also, if you're a Bughead shipper, please don't take offense at this! Whether or not Betty and Jughead end up being a real couple, I just wanted to explore a universe where maybe they're just fake-dating. :)) 
> 
> Also, I do talk about Jughead's asexuality in here. I am not asexual myself, so if any asexual readers of mine notice something that's maybe not super accurate or really just have anything they feel I should add in/take out/whatever, please feel free to comment below and let me know! I want to do these characters justice, but I also want to be accurate, and I would never want to hurt or upset any of my asexual readers by portraying asexuality as something it's not.
> 
> Finally, in this story, Jughead doesn't like Veronica a whole lot. He's easily irritated by her. In my story, that's because: 1) he doesn't quite understand her, so that bothers him, 2) he can't handle someone who might be able to outsnark him lol, and 3) I feel that at this point in the story he's aware that her father bought out the drive-in, and while he hasn't confronted her about that yet, it means he's not the fondest of dear Ronnie at this point in time.
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> xo,  
> L

He kisses Betty because it’s supposed to feel right.

 

He kisses Betty because it’s what a normal guy would do.

 

But then he finds himself kissing Betty and feeling nothing at all, and Jughead very suddenly remembers that he’s the farthest thing from a normal guy.

 

At least that hasn’t changed.

 

••••

Betty Cooper is a “nice girl”; that’s the label the town of Riverdale has assigned her, and so Betty plays that role endlessly, wears it like a mask. To be fair, the old gossips who first gave her that label weren’t exactly wrong — Betty’s got a genuinely good heart, Jughead’s seen it a million times. But the label that she’s survived on is also the label that’s now killing her. She can’t break away from it, always has to be the _nice girl_ no matter how brokenhearted she feels or how furious she is, and he can tell she feels stuck. Suffocated, even. 

 

He knows what it’s like to feel suffocated by the town’s brand for you. He’s been slowly asphyxiating ever since Reggie Mantle first called him a “freak” at the age of six.

 

It’s because he knows that pain that he agrees to Veronica’s crazy plan.

 

It really happens so quickly. It’s just another restless day, half spent aimlessly wandering the halls of Riverdale High when he’s supposed to be in class, the other half spent channeling that restless energy into writing. Pop’s served him at least five coffees already; Jughead’s not sure if he keeps ordering them because he wants to stay up writing, or because he doesn’t want to confront the reality of sleeping on park benches and using the 7-11 bathroom sink as an impromptu shower. 

 

Betty and Veronica slide into the booth before he even notices them walking through the door of Pop’s.

 

“Juggy,” Betty begins, her usual cheerleader-nice-girl smile missing from her features today, “we need your help.” She pauses, glances over at a smirking Veronica, and then corrects herself. “Well, _I_ need your help, really.” 

 

Jughead just raises a brow at her. No matter how sweet Betty Cooper is, the same rules apply to everyone he encounters: cut to the chase, quick, or he’s out for the count. She should know that by now.

 

Then again, she does seem rather nervous, he notes. She’s fidgeting in her seat, absentmindedly playing with the key necklace he’s never seen her without, and she keeps looking over at Veronica for guidance. Truth be told, the silence filling the space between them is making him rather claustrophobic. 

 

Veronica, thank God, seems to notice this and jumps in. “Betty needs you to be her fake boyfriend,” she says smoothly, flashing a smile that has probably charmed countless New York City aristocrats but, unfortunately for her, will never work on Jughead Jones. Betty is going to have to be her own saving grace.

 

Normally, this would be Jughead’s cue to roll his eyes and tell them to leave before they completely scare away his muse, but he’d be lying if he said doing that to Betty wouldn’t make him feel at least a little guilty. Veronica is a different matter — he doesn’t quite get her yet, and that’s what really irks him about her — but Betty, she’s too sweet to do that to. She’ll get at least another minute of his time.

 

So instead, he sends another arched brow Betty’s way and says, “Go on.” 

 

A nervous grin spreads across her features, and she shares an elated glance with Veronica at what she probably perceives as a success — until it dawns on her that she really will have to find a way to explain this. At that realization, Betty takes a deep, shuddering breath, tugs at the sleeves of her bubblegum-pink cardigan, and smiles brightly. “Well,” she starts. Jughead can already see her backpedaling. “I—” Sure enough, Betty stops dead in her tracks, pulls her sleeves up over her hands, and turns to mouth _“I can’t do this”_ at Veronica.

 

_“Yes you can,”_ Veronica mouths back.

 

Jughead is both amused and irritated by this exchange.

 

“Look, can you just tell me already?” he interrupts. He’s tired, and he still has to figure out if he can afford to stay at Pop’s all night, and his stomach is growling, too. “My coffee’s getting cold.” 

 

While Veronica seems annoyed by this, something about it seems to soothe Betty. Maybe it’s because it’s so familiar; it wouldn’t be an interaction with Jughead without some brand of brooding irritation, right? 

 

She reaches up, tightens her already-sky-high ponytail, and finally looks him in the eyes. Jughead’s wander to the table, where Betty’s hands currently rest, and he’s a little saddened by how much they’re shaking. _Am I really that unapproachable?_ Obviously, he doesn’t want random idiots like Cheryl Blossom and her goon squad bothering him at all hours of the day (not like they’d probably waste their time with him, anyway), so a little bit of unapproachable is good, but not to the point where Betty’s scared of him — 

 

She notices him watching and tucks her hands under her legs.

 

“Polly’s coming back,” Betty blurts out.

 

“And?” Jughead prompts, taking a sip of his coffee so he can briefly ignore the awkwardness of this whole situation. He notes with a contented hum that it’s still warm.

 

“And my mom wants her to have an example of a ‘ _healthy_ ’ relationship to hold on to, and normally I’d just tell her to forget about it but I’m already on thin ice after the gun thing and she threatened to tell the police about Grundy and Archie again and I just —” Betty suddenly falls silent, biting her lip and sniffling slightly, the telltale signs that she’s about to cry. Jughead’s seen this a couple of times before, all Archie-related, and he always hates it. Not because Betty crying makes him feel uncomfortable (even though it does) or because she’s sad (even though she is), but because he doesn’t know how to handle it. He hasn’t had to deal with tears in a long time, since before Jellybean and their mom left. 

 

“I guess I’m just sick of disappointing her,” Betty murmurs. “I know that sounds crazy, and it _is_ crazy because _she’s_ crazy and I really should hate her, I know, but — but I feel like this time around, she might be right. Disappointing her might mean disappointing Polly. And that’s the _last_ thing I want to do.” She shakes her head to emphasize her point, and Veronica seems a little mesmerized by the way her ponytail swings back and forth, like a perfectly-curled blonde pendulum. 

 

“And so you think I’d be the perfect fake boyfriend?” Jughead can’t help but scoff a little at that. He immediately regrets it when he sees Betty’s lip quiver. “I’m sorry, Betty, it’s just — don’t you think you’d be better off with someone like Archie?” he adds, more softly this time. 

 

Great. Now Betty Cooper is a member of the very short list of people he’ll ever soften his voice for.

 

“The only person Betty’s mom hates more than me is Archie,” Veronica cuts in. “So that’s kind of a no-go.” 

 

_Yeah, besides the fact that he hasn’t exactly been the master of healthy relationships lately_ , Jughead thinks bitterly. He still hasn’t quite pinpointed the exact reason why Grundy and Archie’s “relationship” (more like professional manipulation) bothers him so much, even now when it’s over, and that rubs him the wrong way, more than he cares to admit (even to himself).

 

“Yeah, okay, but I don’t think Mrs. Cooper holds a grudge against someone like Moose Mason, for example,” he points out. “Why not find a guy like him? Or, hell, even Kevin?” 

 

Betty laughs at that. “Jughead, the entire town knew Kev was gay before Sheriff Keller even found out,” she giggles. “And Midge and Moose are so attached at the hip that my mom wouldn’t believe me for a second if I claimed I was dating him.” Her face grows serious again, the laughter disappearing into thin air, and Jughead thinks he can still see her hands shaking, even from where they’re supposed to be hidden under her thighs.

 

“Look, if you don’t want to do this, I understand,” she says quietly. “My mom, my sister, they’re — well, the Cooper family can be a lot to handle.” Betty tries to conceal the aching truth of that statement with a hollow chuckle, but Jughead sees right through it, and he can tell that Veronica does, too — she looks over at her with a kind of concern in her eyes he’s fairly certain the dark-haired girl reserves strictly for Betty.

 

The atmosphere around them has suddenly gotten so heavy, and frankly, Jughead’s had way too much heavy to deal with in the past week. He’s not sure he can handle much more. Plus, if he doesn’t break this tension right now, Betty will just leave, and then he’ll either have to deal with an over-the-top lecture from Veronica that will just piss him off, or he’ll feel so guilty that he’ll forget all about his coffee, and then it really will go cold.

 

Actually, both of those things could plausibly happen. 

 

Which is why Jughead cracks and decides to play nice.

 

“Well, I’m not exactly the ideal boyfriend,” he says lightly, only half-joking, “but if it’ll make your heart sing, Betty Cooper, then I guess I can give you a little bit of my free time.” Betty squeals, a sound Jughead’s only ever heard her make in front of Archie before. “Don’t get too excited, though,” he tells her. “You’re gonna owe me a _lot_ of burgers after this. Actually, you might even have to pay off my whole tab.” 

 

He flashes a grin her way, an extra nicety he wasn’t expecting to actually want to hand out today, and this, for some reason, prompts Betty to practically launch herself across the table and wrap him in a hug.

 

She squeezes a little too tight and her floral perfume kind of makes Jughead’s nose itch, and honestly he hasn’t let anyone but Archie hug him in a _really_ long time, but she’s a sweet girl in a not-so-sweet world, and truth be told, she’s been a real bright spot as of late. Betty Cooper may be oblivious to some of the darker going-ons of Riverdale, and she might have missed the last showing at the drive-in, and of course she has absolutely no idea why Jughead is so enthralled by the town he so utterly despises, but she is nothing but _good_. Even the things she sees as faults are traits that just further contribute to how genuinely kind and, admittedly, wonderful she is. 

 

People like her are a real rarity in a town so steeped in evil.

 

So Jughead lets her hug him, even if her touch just makes him that much more aware of the clothes he hasn’t washed in a week and the temporary home he _really_ needs to find, and thankfully, Betty knows when to let go. Her hands only linger on his shoulder blades for a couple of seconds, and then she pulls away and sits back down, sporting a broad smile that, in turn, encourages Veronica to give a satisfied smirk of her own.

 

“Told you it’d work, B,” she whispers, black cape only adding to her dramatic air. 

 

Jughead groans. “Seriously? _You’re_ the one who plotted this? Now I’m tempted to rescind my agreement,” he snarks, and Betty looks scared for half a second at that, but he shoots her another (very small, very brief) grin to reassure her. 

 

Of course, Jughead’s stomach chooses that moment to growl particularly loudly. Loudly enough that both Betty and Veronica hear. Normally, he wouldn’t care, but Veronica, for once, knows exactly how to manipulate him, and she uses this information to her advantage.

 

“I’ll pay for your dinner,” she offers.

 

“Consider your deal sealed,” he says, and waves Pop over. 

 

••••

So that’s how he ends up becoming Betty Cooper’s official unofficial boyfriend.

 

Unfortunately, part of their deal is that only the people who made it can know. This means that everyone else — even Archie — must remain clueless. _“That way, nobody will accidentally spill,”_ Veronica claims.

 

Archie, understandably but also not-so-understandably, is pissed. 

 

_“What the hell, dude?”_ he shouts at him when he finds out. _“Did you have a_ thing _for her this whole time? Have you just been waiting for her to move on? Because I gotta say, it’s pretty shitty to take advantage of someone who’s going through a hard time like that, and Betty—”_

 

Jughead doesn’t let him finish. He cuts him off with a story about how Betty came to him, first of all, and second of all, they’re not even _that_ serious, and third, he’d never hurt Betty and Archie should know that by now. 

 

And fourth, Alice Cooper will probably kill him and force them to break up when she finds out anyway. 

 

That, at least, is certainly true.

 

Archie doesn’t yell at him again after that night. Just to make sure he won’t, Jughead buys him a milkshake with money he doesn’t have ( _just put it on my tab, please, Pop_ ), because they’ve always made up over milkshakes and burgers and even if they’re arguing over a fake relationship, Archie still deserves his obligatory make-up milkshake.

 

( _Damn_ , he’s really gotten sappy lately.)

 

It turns out, however, that Betty and Veronica have really thought this through, and they’ve come up with a plan to avoid Mrs. Cooper kicking Jughead out of her daughter’s life in a fit of rage. Betty will just hint at having a boyfriend, and smile and tell her mother that she’ll meet him at Polly’s baby shower.

 

(Oh, yeah, that’s another thing. Polly Cooper is pregnant. With Jason Blossom’s baby, probably.Jughead would bet his entire Pop’s tab that living in the Cooper house right now is essentially a life spent walking on eggshells.)

 

Really, though, Veronica and Betty should’ve known better. If there’s one thing Jughead respects about Alice Cooper, it’s that she’s got a passion for journalism like nothing else, and she is _incredibly_ determined to find out whatever pertinent information she believes she needs. She actually kind of reminds him of himself in that regard, but that’s something he’d prefer to keep a secret for now.

 

So naturally, when Betty’s mother finds out she’s got a boyfriend, she uses whatever means necessary to find out who it is. That includes trailing Betty, using binoculars to spy on her as she walks up to the house, and asking everyone she knows about “Betty’s new paramour”. 

 

Betty calls him up three days after she first tells her mom she’s got a boyfriend and says, “Hi, Juggy. Mom wants to talk to you for a second, if that’s okay.”

 

He’s in a booth at Pop’s, like always, and he’s pretty sure his crappy little phone doesn’t have enough prepaid minutes in the world to listen to all that Alice Cooper probably wants to say, but he says sure anyway and listens as Betty hands the phone over to her mom.

 

“Hi, is this Jughead?” a distinctive, high voice chirps in his ear. It makes him wince.

 

“Yes ma’am,” he says, cringing at the act he’s putting on for this woman. It’s below him, really — but he understands that this is what Betty needs, so whatever. “I’m looking forward to finally getting to meet you,” he adds, just for extra effect. “So I can properly introduce myself.” 

 

“Yes, of course.” Jughead thinks she’s saying it through gritted teeth, but then Mrs. Cooper seems to remember herself, and the pleasantries come rushing back. “Anyway, I just wanted to formally invite you to Polly’s baby shower,” she says, voice syrupy-sweet and making him a little sick to his stomach. It’s so _fake_. Jughead would rather have something authentic he didn’t like than something fake meant to appeal to him. “The whole family is excited to meet you,” she continues. “I just wish Betty had told me about you sooner! I would’ve invited you over for dinner if I’d known. But, of course, there’s plenty of time for that.” 

 

She hangs up soon after that, and Jughead’s stomach twists when he realizes he’s going to have to find something nice to wear.

 

••••

The only thing Jughead really doesn’t like about this deal (well, aside from Archie’s issue with it and being indebted to Veronica Lodge, of all people) is the pretending part. Which is dumb, right? He’d gone into this knowing he’d have to put on a show, have to hold Betty’s hand in the hallway if she wanted and send her some fake sweet texts for her to share with her friends. 

 

But he just hadn’t expected it would be so _hard_. He hadn’t expected the way the word “boyfriend” would get stuck in his throat, or the way that even hearing that term in relation to him kind of makes his chest hurt. 

 

He just can’t see himself in that light. He can’t ever see himself being _anyone_ ’s boyfriend. He can’t see himself being wanted like that by somebody. He can’t see himself being loved by a person who, in spite of all his flaws, embraces the broken shards of his life and helps him learn how to put them back together (and, honestly, even if he could see that, he’s pretty sure that Betty wouldn’t be that person for him anyway — or any girl, probably). He doesn’t really do romance. He doesn’t do sex, either. He just wants to live and eat burgers and write, goddammit. He can leave all that other stuff to Archie.

 

Most people would describe him as asexual. This is something Jughead has known about himself for a while. Has he come to terms with it? Not in the least. But Archie is the only person who knows him better than himself, and so if Jughead thinks he’s asexual, he’s pretty sure that he’s right (even though he knows that he doesn’t have to be). So for his new descriptor to become “Betty Cooper’s boyfriend”… well, it’s a little rough on him.

 

Betty doesn’t find out until they’re a week away from Polly’s shower and she catches him grimacing when a River Vixen in their English class asks him, _“Hey, aren’t you Betty’s boyfriend? She’s such a doll — it’s nice to finally meet you!”_

 

She pulls him aside at lunch to gently scold him, tell him to try just a _little_ bit harder to not act so disgusted by questions like that, but then she catches the way his eyes won’t meet hers when she says, _“Does something bother you about the word ‘boyfriend’, Juggy?”_ and it’d been all joking but _now_ she understands a little better.

 

He doesn’t tell her everything. Just that the term makes him a little uncomfortable and that he really doesn’t see himself as the “boyfriend type”. He doesn’t go into the years of wondering what was wrong with him, if he was broken or what, and he doesn’t go into the constant struggle for self-acceptance, and he sure as hell doesn’t go into the homelessness, because Betty has plenty of demons to battle already and she does _not_ need to take on his (as he knows she would if he were to tell her). 

 

From that point on, Betty strives to make their relationship seem a little more casual. She just laughs and blushes at the term ‘boyfriend’, shoos away all talk of a committed, serious relationship, and cracks jokes about “keeping Sheriff Keller nearby” when their classmates ask her if he’s met her parents. 

 

Jughead appreciates her efforts, but they don’t always keep that tightness in his chest at bay. And sometimes, it becomes a little too obvious. 

 

They’re sitting in the student lounge area. Betty’s on the couch with him, just a few inches away but still maintaining a comfortable distance for the both of them. Kevin and Veronica have grown closer in recent weeks, and that’s evidenced by the matching coffee cups they hold as Veronica interrogates Betty about the upcoming baby shower. Archie, sprawled in the closest chair, listens and watches.

 

He knows he’s going to Polly’s shower already, but he maintains the reluctant-partner act and says, “Am I expected to go to this thing?” when Veronica brings it up. Betty looks at him, and anyone else would probably mistake her expression for heart eyes, but Jughead knows it’s just a silent congratulations on a job well done, and a silent thank you, too.

 

“Of course,” Veronica scoffs. “You’re Betty’s boyfriend, so…” 

 

_Boyfriend._ Jughead stiffens at that, tension immediately popping up between them as Betty shifts uncomfortably in her seat and Veronica appears stunned. 

 

“Oh, my God, you guys, _relax_ ,” she sighs. “It’s just a word that starts with the letter B.” 

 

Betty rolls her eyes, Jughead manages to plaster on an awkward smile, and Betty pretends to bashfully grin at him like it’s the best thing she’s heard all day.

 

He knows it’s all pretend, but —

 

He still has a bit of a panic attack on the walk over to Pop’s that afternoon.

 

••••

As he’d predicted, Alice Cooper’s intentions in _formally_ inviting him to the baby shower were nothing short of devious.

 

He’s standing there, in a brand new red sweater that Betty’d bought him (half-scheme to prevent her mother from being too judgy, half-apology for the other day’s scene), when Alice decides to humiliate her daughter.

 

“Polly, come here,” Mrs. Cooper calls out. Jughead grits his teeth; her voice has started to grate on his nerves after an hour and a half of socializing. He covers his distaste with a fake smile.

 

Polly tiptoes over, meek and mild in a cardigan and dress, the only noticeable difference between her and Betty being the prominent baby bump that she’s sporting. “Yes, Mother?” she says pleasantly.

 

Betty already looks terrified. Jughead already feels bad for her.

 

“This, darling, is the _antithesis_ of what you should be looking for,” Mrs. Cooper hisses. “Now that you’re back in my home, you’ll have to find a good man, but rest assured that a ragamuffin like Betty’s beau is _not_ what I have in mind for you. Please do your best to find the opposite of… _this_.” She gestures at Jughead like he’s trash, and though her words don’t sting, the tears welling in Betty’s eyes do. 

 

Of course. It wouldn’t be a Cooper party if Alice Cooper didn’t try to find some way to humiliate her daughter in front of everyone.

 

Betty runs out, and Jughead goes after her, because that’s what he’s supposed to do, right? Not just as a fake boyfriend, but also as a _friend_. Archie’s home in bed, having been declined an invitation to the shower, and Veronica and Kevin are in the Coopers’ living room downing as many mimosas as they can snag, oblivious to what’s just happened. He’s all Betty really _has_ right now.

 

He finds her at the edge of the road, pretty party dress all smudged with dirt at the hem, mascara streaks splattered across her cheeks. She’s still beautiful, though, and now more than ever, Jughead wishes he could feel that way about her. He _should_ feel that way about her. Any normal guy would have developed feelings for her a _day_ into this whole fake-boyfriend thing. 

 

(Then again, he’s not a normal guy, is he?)

 

He stretches out a hand and helps her up, lets her use his sweater sleeve to wipe away her tears, and they end up wandering through the road, walking past houses they’ve known their entire lives, talking about anything and everything _but_ what just happened.

 

They end up discussing the murder, and she tells him she believes him, and _nobody’s_ ever believed in him before, and so he kisses her.

 

Because that’s what a normal guy would do, right? Because a normal guy is supposed to _feel_ something when a pretty girl cups his face and presses her lips to yours. Because a normal guy is supposed to _want_ to have something with Betty Cooper. Because Jughead _needs_ to be normal. Because maybe if he’s normal, he can go back to the life he once had. Because maybe if he’s normal, he can get back Saturday morning cartoons with Jellybean and Friday nights at the drive-in with his family, front-yard soccer games with his dad and coming home after school to bake cookies with his mom. Because maybe then, he’ll get his home back. Because maybe then, he’ll repair all the damage he’s done to his friendship with Archie. Maybe then, he’ll finally feel _whole_ again.

 

But he’s not normal, and the kiss is only a cruel reminder of that.

 

He’d tried so hard.


End file.
